Computer, Load program: Paris_1920, Level 3

If life feels a little too much like a Star Trek holodeck lately,
you’re not alone.

The lines between “real” and “remembered” are starting to blur,
and maybe they’re meant to.

We’ve found ourselves in the most peculiar predicament.
We take life so dreadfully seriously
like it’s some final exam where one wrong move could doom us forever.

But what if the whole thing was just a game?

Not in the dismissive sense.
But in the truest, most profound way.

A cosmic play. A dream. A dance.
And most importantly: one you designed.

Imagine this:

You’re Not the Character:
You’re the Game

As children, we played with pure presence.
Cowboys, astronauts, queens, dragons,
we threw ourselves into the roles,
fully alive in the moment,
but never forgetting that it was pretend.

And when mom called us in for dinner,
we dropped the role. Just like that.

But somewhere along the way, we forgot.

We became method actors in the theater of life.
So absorbed in our roles,
mother, boss, failure, overachiever,
that we believed that’s who we are.

And when that happens,
the game turns into a prison.

The First Rule of the Game:
You Are Not Who You Think You Are

The you you think you are,
your name, history, worries, dreams, is just your character.

The real you is not the actor on stage.

You’re the entire production:
the stage,
the lights,
the audience,
the script,
and the improvisation unfolding moment by moment.

You are the awareness in which every experience rises and falls.
You are not in the game.
You are the game.

The Second Rule of the Game:
There Is No Finish Line

There’s no "win condition."
No moment when life says: “You did it! Game over!”
Because that’s not the point.

You don’t listen to a symphony to hear the final note.
You don’t dance to arrive somewhere on the floor.

The point is to play,
and to dance.

Yet most of us rush through life like it’s a race:
Childhood → Adulthood
School → Career
Work → Retirement

And then… we ask: where did it all go?

We were so focused on getting somewhere
that we missed the only place we ever truly were: here.

The Third Rule of the Game:
The Game Is Rigged In Your Favor

Because you're not just the player.
You’re the dreamer and the dream.
You’re the one being chased
and the monster chasing in the nightmare

You’re every challenge, every win, every twist of the plot.
And since you are the game itself…
how could you ever truly lose?

The Fourth Rule of the Game:
Everyone You Meet Is You

Here’s one of the most beautiful secrets of this game:
Every person you meet is you, wearing a different mask.
Yes, even the difficult ones.
Even the ones who trigger you.

They are you
playing a role to help you remember something.

When you realize this,
compassion stops being a virtue
and becomes a natural response.

Because you stop seeing “other.” And start seeing… One.

The Fifth Rule of the Game:
There Are No Mistakes

Children fall while learning to walk.
They don’t call it failure.
They call it life.

You, too,
are allowed to stumble.

And the next time you do?
Don’t judge the fall. Ask instead:

What did I learn?
What shifted?
What story am I ready to release?

When You Remember That,

you stop asking:
“Why is this happening to me?”

And start asking:
“Why am I happening to this?”

You’re not the victim of circumstances.
You are circumstances appearing to yourself as contrast
to make the game interesting.

You’re the painter, painting, and the canvas,
discovering yourself through every color and brushstroke.

And for those who have endured trauma or pain beyond words:

There are no words that
can fully hold the weight of what you've been through.
This isn’t meant to dismiss or minimize your suffering.
What did happen may be unspeakable
but it is not who you are.

You are more than the pain you’ve endured.
You are the space in which even pain can begin to heal.

“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”
— Carl Jung

When You Know It’s A Game,

you can finally play.

You can:
Love fully, without attachment.
Work passionately, without burnout.
Act with intensity, but let go of control.

You become like a jazz musician,
improvising with skill and heart,
rather than a classical performer locked into every note.

This is what it means to live skillfully.
Not perfectly.
Not predictably.
But with presence, agility, and joy.

It’s Time to Go Inward

You may ask:
If this is just a game,
why does it hurt so much?
Why does it feel so real?

Because you’ve forgotten…

You’ve been reading the program notes,
overanalyzing the story,
looking for meaning out there
instead of listening to the music right here.

But now… it’s time.

It’s time to go inward.
Into the silence.
Into the stillness.
Into the self beyond identity.

So, How Do You Play?

Play like this:
Improvisationally.
Compassionately.

Without needing to “win.”
Without fearing the plot twists.
With awe, wonder, and creativity.

The best players don’t keep score.
They don’t even try to control the rules.
They flow with life like water around stone.

And somehow,
they move mountains, effortlessly.

When You Reach The Final Level

Even death is not the end.
It’s just a costume change.
Because the game doesn’t end.
It only shifts form.

And as long as consciousness plays,
you’ll keep discovering yourself again and again,
as a human, or as another life form,
on Earth or in another galaxy.

So Imagine This…

Next time you find yourself stressed,
anxious, or feeling like you’re “failing” at life,

pause.

And imagine:

Life is an infinite game.
The whole point is to play.
You are not the character.
You are the entire game itself.

Computer, end program.

With purpose and light,
Ryion P.
Author of Awakened Purpose
Grab your copy of Awakened Purpose here.